


Chewing Gum and Fireworks

by Summertime_Queen



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Gen, Humour, I also just really like snake Crowley, Im not even sure what happened here, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), Ineffable Idiots (Good Omens), M/M, Writing Prompt, innuendos
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-09
Updated: 2019-08-09
Packaged: 2020-08-13 16:07:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,844
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20177038
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Summertime_Queen/pseuds/Summertime_Queen
Summary: The Ineffable Idiots have a minor prank war that gets a little soppy when Crowley accidentally upsets Aziraphale.It was a writing prompt inspired by a box of chewing gum on my desk that spiralled out of control with no real plans.





	Chewing Gum and Fireworks

**Author's Note:**

> Writing Prompt: The box of chewing gum on my desk.

Rain pattered against the windows of the old bookshop on a typical August day in London. It was muffled somewhat by the drawn curtains and the locked door, but there was still that unmistakable tapping of water on glass. But it wasn't enough.

A low hum of engines vibrated through the evening air as rush hour got into full swing. People walked the busy Soho street in true London stoic silence, except for the excited calls of tourists who didn't know any better. But it wasn't enough.

The crisp notes of Moonlight Sonata waltzed through the air from the gramophone in the corner of the room. This record had been spun a thousand times, but it still played like it was freshly pressed, which was just how he liked it. But it wasn't enough.

Nothing would ever be enough to cover the noise only the devil himself could make. It was a noise that slithered into your head and blended your brain; made your hair stand on end; made your nerves tingle with adrenaline. It felt like it had been hours of this constant nails on chalkboard and he just couldn't take it anymore. He slammed down the book he was half-reading and stared at his startled guest.

"For Gods sake!"

"Huh?"

"Would you please just spit that out!" Aziraphale specified, at his wits end.

"What?" Crowley couldn't help but grin, opening his mouth even wider whilst he chewed the gum he'd been working on all evening.

"Can't you at least close your mouth?" Speaking much softer now, the Angel held his head, hoping that would fend off the growing migraine.

"For you, angel?" Crowley said. "Absolutely not." He started chewing even louder, his smirk nearly taking over his whole face.

"Please, I just want to enjoy the evening and I can’t do that with that _noise_." Aziraphale pouted, much to Crowley amusement. He always enjoyed getting the Angel to beg.

"Make me." He challenged, raising an eyebrow. Aziraphale looked at him for a second, before rolling his eyes and picking back up his book, ignoring the flash of disappointment in Crowleys eyes. The Demon went back to fiddling about on his phone when suddenly he felt an intense pain in his mouth.

"Shit!" He exclaimed.

"Hm?" The Angel was undisturbed by his outburst, even seemed to be humoured by it.

"Bit ma tung" Crowley slurred as he whined, holding his jaw.

"That'll teach you." He still hadn't looked up from his book, although there was a twinkle of mischief in his eyes that hadn't escaped Crowley.

"Bastard."

"Well,” Aziraphale finally looked up from his book, chuckling. “I figured it'd take a miracle to get you to stop." They both stared at each other for a moment; Crowley still rubbing his jaw, Aziraphale peering over his reading glasses.

"... Bastard."

*

"... That still doesn't explain why you're on my roof." Anathema said, finally, nervously eyeing the darkening sky. Crowley was indeed on her roof, but he wasn't sure exactly how to explain why he was up there.

Well, he could explain why he was currently in the village of Tadfield - Anathema and Newt had invited he and Aziraphale up for a small bonfire party in celebration of Guy Fawkes Night (a lovely little English custom, where they set fire to human effigies and launch coloured gun powder into the sky all night on (or around) the 5th of November). The couple were fully aware of the peculiarity of the two of them hosting such an event, but neither of them had done it before and it sounded like good fun. Crowley and Aziraphale had assumed they were invited to be on hand if (when) things got too out of hand - not that they would be much good short of any miraculous escapes. They had gotten up there earlier that morning and decided to do a little exploring - Aziraphale had found a little café that did the most delicious brunches, and Crowley had split off to concoct an evil plan.

"Things may have gotten a bit out of control since then." Crowley replied, shrugging and trying to keep both his balance on the thatching and his sunglasses from slipping down his nose as he peered over the guttering at Anathema.

"How so?"

"Well..." Crowley thought for a moment for the right words, "I mean, it started with the gum thing, so I got him back by changing all of the books in his shop to soppy romance novels. It look a lot of effort, have you seen how many books he has in there?"

"Right...?" she didn't look as amused as Crowley thought she should be.

"Ahh - then I caught him reading said soppy romance novels to my houseplants which was a total and utter betrayal of my trust, so all the plants had to go."

"Had to go?"

"Well I left one, of course. To pass the tale onto the new generation."

"I'm so confused." Anathema sighed, almost wishing she hadn't engaged at all - alas, it wasn't every day that you came home to a Demon creeping about on your roof.

"Aaaand it just kind of spiralled from there, really. Anyway if you could just-"

"What exactly is your plan for when Aziraphale gets here, then?" She cut him off mid-flow.

"Uh..." Crowley looked around, realising that sudden inspiration he was hoping for had yet to hit him after climbing up here. "Well..." He pushed up his sliding sunglasses again. "I mean..." Anathema shook her head – the chill of the wind picking up leading her to head inside.

"Don't break anything!"

"Oh no I'll be fine."

"I was talking about my house." She called back as she closed the front door behind her. There was a loud rumble of thunder and Crowley finally noticed the quickly approaching black clouds. This had seemed like such a good idea at the time.

"Ah."

*

Crowley watched the fire crackling in front of them as they sat in Anathemas back garden as they waited for Newt to set up the spectacular fireworks show that had been promised. Anathema and Aziraphale were in animated conversations about the opposing ideologies of rural ducks vs urban ducks over a glass of a very nice local red wine, and she had been markedly been avoiding staring at the large, black snake currently curled up on the Angels lap.

The storm had come in quite suddenly and caught Crowley by surprise, so things had backfired just a little bit. He managed to get off the roof with only minor breakage (they hardly used the chimney anyway) but the temperature of his human(ish) body had already dropped too low in the icy November rain and wind, and he had found himself slithering sadly over to a sympathetic Aziraphale as he approached the cottage, carrying up a few bottles of thank you wine for their generous hosts.

Anathema hadn't asked where the snake came from, or where Crowley had gone, and quite frankly she didn't really want to know. They were a little strange, but she did enjoy their company nonetheless - they'd all been through a lot averting the Non-Pocalypse and it was nice to occasionally confirm it did actually happen and that she hadn't gone completely insane. The storm had passed almost as fast as it appeared, much to the concern of Newt who thought he may have gotten out of his predicament; he'd never so much as actually lit a firework before and he had spent a better part of the day trying to figure out how to set up this fancy display he'd bought at a local pop-up fireworks shop last week.

Anathema was also pretending not to notice the soft way Aziraphale casually stroked along the glossy scales of the snake, when he wasn't gesturing to emphasise his point. Crowley had long since warmed up to a more optimal temperature, but he was going to milk this for as long as possible. He hadn't even wanted to come up all this way - if he wanted fireworks there were plenty of local displays he could see from the comfort of his flat - but Aziraphale had begged with those doey, puppy-dog eyes and before he knew it they were in the Bentley heading up the A40.

"Right, so..." Newt came around the bonfire rubbing his hands together. "It's all ready to go, I just have to press this button and the magic should happen!"

"Okay then." Anathema said, wincing slightly as the gravity of their choice of fireworks master sunk in. Everyone leant back a little as Newt counted down:

"Five... Four... Three... Two... One!"

BOOM!

The resounding shock wave knocked everyone to the ground; true to form, Newt had managed to wire the entire display to go off at once. Miraculously, there was no damage to person or cottage, other than a small dent in Newts ego and whining car alarms. A few raindrops sealed the deal and the party retreated back inside, finding a pouty Crowley sat at the dining table.

"Oh, there you are." Aziraphale said, cheerfully. "I did wonder where you’d gotten to."

"More wine, anyone?" Anathema suggested, knowing full well where he’d gotten to.

"Oh yes, dear!" Aziraphale presented his empty glass as Anathema pulled out another bottle from the bag Aziraphale had brought and began to serve.

*

Trusting that he was a Demon and knew better than they did, a very drunk Newt and Anathema bid a very drunk Crowley and Aziraphale adieu as they stumbled towards the Bentley, at just gone two AM. By the time Crowley got into the driver’s seat he’d sobered up just enough to get the two of them back to London safe and sound (A rather hungover Anathema was very confused the following morning when she realised that several open bottles of wine had mysteriously refilled), but Aziraphale was insisting on continuing the party and was drinking directly from a bottle in the passenger seat.

“Sooo…” Aziraphale began as Crowley pulled away and sped up the road. “How exactly did you get caught in the storm?”

“What storm?” Crowley figured denial was the best form of defence here – the last thing he needed was the embarrassment of the Angel finding out what he’d been up to.

“The one that turned you into a snake _hic_.” Aziraphale giggled into his hand as he tried to cover up his hiccup.

“Don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Fine _hic_. Be that way.” Aziraphale crossed his arm, hugging the nearly empty bottle and stared pointedly out of the window.

“Fine.” Crowley smirked as he threw in a random CD – it didn’t really matter what it said on the label as all his CD’s had been in the car well over a month now.

_I can dim the lights and sing you songs full of sad things_

_We can do the tango just for two_

_I can serenade and gently play on your heart strings_

_Be your Valentino just for you_

Crowley rolled his eyes and glanced over to Aziraphale, who looked like the only thing keeping him from passing out was the odd hiccup shocking him awake again. The giggling every time he did it wasn’t helping either. It was always so amusing to Crowley when the ever immaculate Aziraphale looked even a little dishevelled; his bow tie was ever-so-slightly askew, his waistcoat undone and he apparently was now taking off his shoes.

“Can you not?” Crowley pleaded, only half-joking as he opened his window a little. Aziraphale had spent all day walking around and it’d take a miracle to avoid that awful feet smell and the Angel was in no such state to focus on anything like that right now.

“Tell me what _hic _happen’d” Aziraphale twisted in his seat and began to wave his sweat encrusted sock in front of Crowley as he drove. “I ben savin’ this _hic _up all day _hic_” he looked rather proud of himself.

“Don’t!” Crowley pushed the foot from his face with a look of total disgust and wiped his hand on Aziraphales coat.

“Hey!”

“Hey yourself!” Crowley veered around a corner forcing Aziraphale to slip in his seat, which was when he realised the Angel had taken off his seatbelt at some point, if he’d even put it on. Crowley slowed down drastically - being discorporated right now would make everything very complicated, especially after _the incident_. “Why aren’t you wearing a seatbelt? You know what my driving is like!” Aziraphale picked up the actual anger in his voice and sulked as he buckled in.

“Why are you being so _hic_ mean today?” The Angel pouted. “B’n grouchy all day.” He went to take another sip but realised he had already finished the bottle, much to his dismay.

“I’ve not been grouchy!”

“You’re shouting at me.”

“I am n-!” Crowley caught himself and lowered his voice. “I am not shouting at you.” He replied as calmly as he could muster. He’d seen Aziraphale ‘unattended toddler drunk’ before, but he usually just giggled himself to sleep instead of throwing a tantrum. “I think you need to sober up.”

“I _hic_ think you need to…” Aziraphale thought for a moment, “shut _hic _up.” He muttered. Crowley stared at him for a moment, momentarily forgetting he was driving. Luckily being a Demon comes with some extra bonuses, such as giving those around you slightly quicker reaction speeds when avoiding you when you casually veer into the wrong lane at 100 mph.

“… Are you okay, Angel?” Crowley asked, carefully. He glanced back at the road and pulled back into his lane. Aziraphale shrugged.

“You’d only _hic _turn into a snake if something bad _hic _happened.” He eventually replied, fiddling with the label on the wine bottle.

“Angel…”

“And you won’t tell me _hic_ what happened and I was very worried _hic_!” Crowley tried not to laugh as Aziraphale did look quite distraught.

“I…” Crowley tried to find a way to say ‘I was on the roof and planning on, I don’t know, throwing small stones at you and hiding until you got mad, or something’ but without sounding like an idiot. “I… was on the roof and planning on, I don’t know, throwing small… rocks at you and hiding until you got mad… or something…” Never mind. Aziraphale squinted as he played the response in his head a few times before giving up.

“What?”

“What?”

“What…. What?” Aziraphales head hurt – he was pretty sure he was getting a pre-hangover from this conversation. At least his hiccups had stopped.

“Yeah.” Crowley shrugged. “Then the storm hit and I nearly fell off the roof and it was wet and cold and… y’know…”

“Wait, Ananananananthemas roof?” (The Anathema scale was a great way to figure out just how drunk you are – the more ‘nana’s you say, the more drunk you are!)

“Who else’s roof?”

“Throw rocks?”

“Or something! I didn’t get that far.”

“You fell off the roof?”

“Nearly fell – the chimney sacrificed itself for the greater… evil?” Crowley wasn’t sure where we was going with this. He wasn’t sure where he was going the whole day, to be honest.

“I think our escalations have escalated.” Aziraphale said, sagely.

“Oh yeah?” Crowley smiled at the Angel.

“Maybe we should deescalate our escalations.”

“That doesn’t sound as fun.” Crowley winked. Aziraphale scowled at him before extending his hand.

“Truce?”

“Sure.” Crowley shook his hand, drifting back into the other lane before sharply righting his driving direction, much to the upset of Aziraphales stomach.

“Oohh, maybe I should sober up…” He said, covering his mouth.

*

The ineffable duo eventually pulled up outside the Soho bookshop, much earlier than a normal person would have made that journey, and a now much more sober Aziraphale finished collecting himself before opening the car door to leave. As he went to say goodnight, Crowley felt an irresistible urge and grabbed the Angels wrist before he could leave;

“ImsorryImadeyouworryandthankyouforlookingafterme.” He blurted out. If he wasn’t physically repressing his ability to blush, he would have been flush with embarrassment. Aziraphale looked kindly at him – he knew how hard it was for Crowley to say things like that. He put a gentle hand on top of Crowleys and patted it.

“You are most welcome, dear.” He said. “I will always worry about you, like I know you worry about me, and that’s okay – more proof that you-”

“Don’t!” Crowley interjected, knowing what was coming. He knew full well it was true, but he couldn’t have it being said with actual words, especially by Aziraphale.

“Heh. Goodnight Crowley.” Aziraphale tipped his head and got out of the car.

“G’night.” The Demon replied, pulling away as soon as Aziraphale closed the door behind him. He’d gotten quite close to his own flat when sudden realisation hit him; “Oooh, I could’ve made the surviving plant follow him around, like a guilt thing!” he exclaimed aloud to no one in particular. “Maybe next time.” Because of course, truce or no truce, the two of them were incapable of going more than a week without winding each other up.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! I kind of just let the story write itself and went along for the ride. Ended up much longer than I was planning on but here we are!


End file.
